Beginnings
by LynnFox
Summary: Post 9x10. What happens after the fade to black?


bAuthor:/b Lynn Fox (yes, that ancient girl that used to post stories)

bTitle:/b Beginnings

bPairing:/bGSR (duh!)

bSpoilers:/bPost 9x10

bRating:/b NC-17, Mature, whatever!

bA/N:/b How could I not write after that ending! And smut, it has to be smut. I'd like to thank the authors of CSI for writing the episode, and Jorja Fox and William Petersen for acting the hell out of it and thus handing me back my long lost muze. You're wonderful people! Also thanks to lovely Akima for reading this through for me!

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One last glimpse of the lab would suffice. Not once has he worried that they couldn't carry on without him. He's seen them grow over the last few years. Grow into mature people, with the right heart and the right mind. He remembers how he himself used to be. Not able to let anyone in, not able to share anything with anyone, except perhaps his knowledge.

She changed that. He know it, she knows it, and he's pretty sure the rest of the lab knows as well.

That first day he laid eyes on her after two years of a not-so-regular e-mail correspondence, he knew part of him had made a mistake. Even back then she was the one person he dared opening up to.

She didn't fit into his real life.

His bond with her didn't fit the bond he had with the rest of the people he worked with.

She was disappointed by that, he could tell. Things seemed different at first. There she was, that same enticing girl he knew before. For years he had dreamed of a good opportunity to invite her to Vegas, to ask her to come and work with him.

When the moment finally came, part of him came to life, vitality pulsing through his veins. The other part of him felt guilty. Guilty that a young woman had to die at the expense of him being able to get Sara to Vegas. Guilty that he couldn't be the guy she knew, the guy from the emails.

Confused as he was, he never handled her well. But she knew him better than that. She knew him better than anyone else, and he's guessing she even knew ithat/i, even though she must have doubted it at times.

She kept her hopes up, even in times that he himself would have given up on that grumpy old fool that he was. There was no getting rid of her. He'd push her away, and she'd come right back. There was always Sara to rely on. She was always there, until one day she wasn't quite as much, and that's when he figured he'd been enough of a fool.

He'd like to think he made the best boyfriend she could have imagined. He would make her breakfast, he would rub her back and legs. They would take long baths on their nights off, and he would wash her hair like he had freshly stepped out of a very cheesy romance novel.

They would talk for hours. Discussing anything and everything, from the weather that day to scientific theories that either of them supported.

One would think that he wouldn't make the same mistake again once he had set it straight. One would be wrong.

Natalie Davis took a lot away from them. He could come up with a thousand excuses as to why he began shutting Sara out again, but there are none that matter. He shut her out and left, and things weren't the same when he got back.

He still loved her as much as he ever did, but his mind was preoccupied. The night Natalie took Sara, she at least gave him back that little bit of focus on Sara that he had lost in the months previous. It should have happened in a different way. He should have gotten the focus back by himself.

When they found her he swore to himself never to lose her again, but in her mind she was already taken away from him. He told her he'd marry her, trying to show her that he never wanted to leave her side again. Now he knows that it was a mistake. Sara was never brought into this world to be anyones better half. She was always meant to be a better person, and maybe half of a couple, in a co-dependent way.

She left, and left him heartbroken.

He couldn't describe the relief when she contacted him. He thought she never would. But things could never be the same.

When she came back for Warrick's funeral he knew that she was different now. Las Vegas had never suited her, and it was now so painfully clear. She couldn't stay, and he couldn't leave. He is not sure why that was. There was some unfinished business he had to solve, even though he couldn't be sure what it was.

Now he realizes that he simply owed it to his team to make sure they had a mentor that could challenge them sufficiently enough. He has found that person in Dr. Langston.

He could leave now, so he left. All he has are the clothes he is wearing, his passport, a GPS and a small backpack. Apart from the woman he loves, it's all he needs.

Humidity is high in the rainforest, and the heavy perfume of flowers, plants and even the river fill the air. He can't help checking his GPS every five steps. He knows it won't be far and he recognizes an old fear as it overcomes him. iWhat will she think of me? Will she be glad I'm here? Will she still blame me for all the stupid things I did? Is a person even able to forgive another person for all those things?/i

He tries to block his anxiety out and just keeps walking. If he could just see her one more time he would be happy. She can scream at him, she can hit him, she could tell me never to come back, but he just wants to look her in the eyes, smell her one last time, feel her heart beat one last time, live her dream.

His breath catches in his throat when she's suddenly standing just five feet away from him.

In all the years he has known her, in all the years he has worked with her, he has seen her take at least a thousand pictures. For years he has thought she looked beautiful taking pictures, always pictures of sad scenes. He has only ever seen her glow while taking a picture once, during their duel. He still cherishes the picture he took of her that day, keeps it in his wallet. After today he can throw it out, because right now she is as radiant as he could ever imagine her to be, taking pictures of a monkey.

Slowly she turns around, and he can tell that for a split second she thinks she must be mistaken. That she can't really be there and that this is all a dream. Slowly he takes a few hesitating steps towards her and then she breaks out that beautifully sad smile of hers. She shuffels her feet, not knowing if he's here for the same reason she's hoping him to be, to join her forever.

He doesn't even notice himself throwing his backpack to the ground. She knows now, that he's come to stay. All he knows is that she's walking towards him, into his open arms and he knows they belong. His mouth finds hers in a split second and they share the most tantalizing kiss since their very first one.

She slips her tongue into his mouth and quickly touches the tip of his. His hands are on her back, her shoulders, in her hair. She's still holding the camera, though she's wondering whether just to drop it and let her left hand join her right on his broad shoulders.

They just can't get close enough.

They break their kiss, without letting each other go. He feels her breath in his ear when she hoarsely whispers, "I love you so, so much."

Just her voice sends a shiver down his spine.

"Me too... I'm so sorry."

She pushes just far away enough to be able to look at him.

"You being here is more telling than a thousand words of apology."

She kisses him again -sloppier this time- and in a flash he wishes he could just lift her up and carry her to the nearest bed.

"You're amazing," she says.

"You're beautiful."

"I can tell you think that." Her hand slides in between their bodies.

"I'm sorry," he starts to apologize.

"Don't be."

She steps away from him and he's very glad the one person that was occupying the tent just a few minutes ago is now gone, because at the moment ianyone/i could tell that he thinks Sara Sidle is beautiful. With one hand she grabs his, and with the other picks up his backpack and then she tugs him around the large tent and to a smaller one.

"This is me," she says, pointing at it.

"Just you?"

"Well, usually it is, but it's built for two, so I guess now it's us."

She pushes him in, closes the flap and zips it.

"C'mere," she whispers.

His arms wrap around her waist once more, and they sink into another kiss.

"I want you so close," he says.

She pulls him closer.

"Much closer than that."

Her eyes twinkle. "Minus eight inches?"

"Hmmm, something like that."

She pushes him down onto the ground and her mattress.

"I can't believe you're really here."

"Let me prove it to you."

He pulls her on top of him and pushes her shirt up a bit, then dips his head to kiss the soft skin on her stomach. She pushes off his hat and runs her fingers through his hair. He inhales her scent and she whispers, "I'm sweaty, I'm sorry."

"So am I."

Within seconds he has flipped her so that he is now the one on top. He pulls his shirt straight over his head and leans over her for another kiss. Her small hands slide over his stomach and up to his shoulders, where she digs in her nails and she bites her lower lip.

"Don't cry, Sara."

She shakes her head, but he can see a tear slipping from below her eyelids.

"I'm so sorry I'm making you cry."

"You're not, I'm happy. I just cant wrap my mind around the fact that you're here."

He is not even fully aware of the fact that he so quickly rids her of her blouse and trousers.

iNot wearing a bra, she's not wearing a bra!/i His mouth finds her nipple and all that rushes through his head are incoherent thoughts. iSo pretty... I love you... so beautiful... I need you... close... tastes so good... closer... closer.../i

Her nails dig into his back as he sucks on one of those beautifully soft pink nipples. He feels the tightening of her skin on his tongue.

"Bite..." she urges.

Softly he sinks his teeth into delicate skin. She hisses and arches her amazing body into him, pressing her breasts against his cheek.

"Love that," she moans, "God I love your beard."

He presses his cheek against her chest and he hears the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

"You're so alive, Sara."

She pushes him up and undoes his belt buckle before shoving his pants down and grabbing his cock. He involuntarily flexes his muscles and it twitches in her hands. Her hand closes around his flesh and he simultaneously closes his eyes. It's been months since he has had anything but his own hands down there and he had all but nearly forgotten the exquisite feel of it.

"Look at me," she whispers, and when he opens his eyes again he sees her looking up at him. Since she left he has been dreaming about her a lot. Sometimes they were nightmares about her being taken again, sometimes they were wonderful dreams that gave him physical reactions he hadn't had since his twenties, but in neither of those dreams did she look so perfect as she does right now.

He can't help the tears welling up in his eyes and he buries his face in her neck.

"Don't cry, Gil," she teases.

He softly scrapes the nape of her neck with her teeth, while he slides his hands up and down her sides. If everything would ever be taken away from him, he would always have this. He will never forget it.

It's been too long since they have been together. They can hardly stand the anticipation and so he pushes down her panties and kicks off the pants that are still around his ankles.

"You are..." he starts, but he can't find the words.

"I am."

"Yeah..."

For a short moment they just look each other in the eye, and for the first time ever he really sees her as the person she is, and not just the person she wants to be. He can't describe what that feels like to him, how it touches him.

"I don't have any protection," she suddenly whispers, "I could go and ask Charlie, or Chris..."

He hasn't met them, but he doesn't feel like sending his girl off to some guys to ask for condoms.

"I have, in my backpack, bought it at the airport," he provides.

Both of them clumsily get up and he reaches for his backpack. Unable to keep away from her much longer he just unzips it and turns it upside down.

"Just twelve?" she asks with a fake pout, "at least you've bought the warming lube version..."

"The girl behind the counter gave me a funny enough look as it was, I wasn't about to ask for more."

She rips the package and sheathes him within seconds, then guides him to her wet opening.

"I thought I'd... first..." he gestures, but she shushes him and pulls him into her.

Her eyes roll back as his cock slowly sinks between her folds. She has always been sensitive to him, and he knows not to push too hard – yet.

Her legs wrap around his waist, urging him deeper.

"I don't care if this will just take five minutes," she contently moans, "I've missed this so... so much!"

He wants it to last forever, reveling in the feel of her around him. And he still wants to get closer.

Just when he wants to urge her to put her legs over his shoulders so that he can get deeper, he hears the zipper of her tent door. Halting his motions instantly he quickly looks around for something -anything- to cover them up.

"Go away!" Sara yells toward the tent door.

"Sara, are you in there?" he hears a man's voice.

'Charlie', she mouths, then loudly says, "Yes, go away, I'll talk to you later!"

"You okay?" Charlie asks, and Sara rolls her eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine, go, I'll talk to you later, I'm not dressed."

It stays silent for a few seconds, then Charlie mumbles something before footsteps fade away.

"Not dressed is quite the understatement dear," Gil grins before finally grabbing her legs and pushing them up to his shoulders, filling her at just the right angle.

She feels his rigid cock rub her walls and nub, and it's almost enough to make her come instantly, if she'd let it.

She won't.

He lets her legs slide down from his shoulders once more and leans up a bit to admire her body. Drops of sweat have gathered where her body had doubled in their previous position. He drags his index finger from her neck, in between her breasts to her belly button.

She shivers from his touch and that deep dark blue of his intense gaze.

"I still can't believe you came," she says.

"I didn't, not yet..."

She playfully whacks his shoulder. "I mean ihere/i!"

He grins, kisses her, and drives his rod deep into her once more.

"You want me to make you feel I'm really here?"

She flushes and nods, and then he pounds into her hard. Again and again and again until she has to bite her hand to keep from screaming as her walls clench around him, making him choke on her name.

He's exhausted, from the roller coaster ride it has been for the two of them, the agonizingly long trip he had to endure to find her once again, and this exhilarating fuck. He keeps moving on sheer will power until the pulsing in both of their bodies fades and then his arms give way and he lies on top of her.

"Now do you believe I'm here?"

"Uhhhhhuhh..." she gasps, "that was... almost unbelievable."

"Almost?"

"Yeah, you're really here."

"I'm really here," he smiled, before kissing her again.

He slips from her, and while he busies himself with disposing of the condom, she reaches for a towel which she hands to him.

After wiping himself clean he lies back down next to her. He strokes her stomach softly, taking in her curves and freckles.

"You're never leaving me again, right?"

"No," she whispers, "never."

"I've always known we'd find each other in the end."

She runs her hand over his cheek, looks him in the eye and says, "it's not the end, it's just the beginning."


End file.
